


Solo

by LavedaVida



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- Irish Dance, F/F, Fluff, Rule 63, irish dancing lesbian bffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:25:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavedaVida/pseuds/LavedaVida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire nodded, and stuck her hands into her pockets. "How long have you been dancing for?"</p><p>"My whole life? Really though, since I was about four, I think. Maybe three. You?"</p><p>"I started when I was twelve," said Grantaire. She flashed a bitter smile. "I wanted something that would keep me out of the house, so I took up fencing and dance and boxing. But dance was the only one that I stuck with. I love it, I really do."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solo

_Down one-two-three._

_Down one-two-three._

_Down one-two-three-and-toe-hop-back._

Enjolras slammed her feet into the ground again and again, letting the sound of the fiberglass on the dance floor reverberate through the quiet practice room.

"Bravo," came a cool voice from the doorway at a break between the noise.

Enjolras froze, whipping around to see a dark haired girl standing in the door. A pair of ghillies was looped around her neck.

"What are you doing here? I have this room for another ten minutes," Enjolras said, rubbing the side of her foot through the leather of the shoe.

"I heard Irish music. It's not too common around here, and I figured I'd come and see who was dancing."

"You dance as well?" Enjolras asked, and then shook her head. "Obviously, of course you do, you've got ghillies with you."

The other girl laughed. "I'm Grantaire. I just wanted to say hello to my fellow dancer. I haven't seen you at the feiseanna around these parts-- do you not attend, or...?"

"Enjolras. I'm not from around here," Enjolras said, with a shrug. "I don't know if the accent gives it away, but I grew up in Ireland. So I've mostly attended feiseanna at home. I don't really have the time around here."

"There's one in two months, registration just opened," Grantaire said. "You should go. I've already signed up... I could give you a ride, if you wanted to go."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "I've only just met you."

"Yeah, well, there's two months before the feis to get to know me. You should sign up. I can take you if you want, but if you aren't comfortable with it, then you can find someone else to take you." Grantaire pulled a sharpie and a post-it out of her pocket, and scrawled something on it. "That's my phone number," she said, thrusting it toward Enjolras. "Let me know if you wanna meet up and talk about dance, or... something."

Enjolras nodded. "Maybe I will," she said softly. When she looked up again, Grantaire had vanished from the doorway, and there were only two minutes left of her time in the practice room. She sighed, sat down on the floor, and pulled off her hard shoes.

~~~

Enjolras' mouse hovered over the "Register for Feis" button. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and a crumpled post-it along with it. With trembling fingers, she dialed the number.

"Hello?" came Grantaire's voice over the crackly line.

"Um, is this Grantaire? This is Enjolras, from the dance studio. I just... were you really serious about offering me a ride to the feis? Because I don't know if I want to sign up, and--"

"Just do it. It's only seventy-five bucks and if you can afford to Irish dance, then you can afford to maybe blow the money if it doesn't pan out."

"...all right. But on one condition."

"Yeah?"

"You meet me for coffee today. Or tomorrow. Or whenever works for your schedule, really, but--"

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah. How about three? Does that sound good? At the Musain?"

"Perfect," Enjolras said.

"Look, I've gotta run now, but I'll see you then?"

"Yeah. Definitely," Enjolras said. When she hung up, she was smiling.

~~~

"So what do you do? I mean, for uni?" asked Grantaire as they stood in line at the Musain.

"I'm a poli-sci/dance double major," Enjolras said, with a grin. "A bit of a weird combo, yeah."

"I'm a dance/art double major," Grantaire replied. "I'm surprised I haven't seen you around until now."

"I got most of my dance stuff out of the way during my first two years at uni," Enjolras explained. "It was supposed to be a minor, but they said if I took one more class, then I could be a major, so I'm taking it now."

Grantaire nodded, and stuck her hands into her pockets. "How long have you been dancing for?"

"My whole life? Really though, since I was about four, I think. Maybe three. You?"

"I started when I was twelve," said Grantaire. She flashed a bitter smile. "I wanted something that would keep me out of the house, so I took up fencing and dance and boxing. But dance was the only one that I stuck with. I love it, I really do."

"It's quite therapeutic," Enjolras said, nodding. "I've been doing less of it, now that I'm at uni, despite the fact that I'm a dance major, but I used to spend all my time at the dance studio. Really, all of it."

The talk turned to their favorite brands of shoes, favorite set dances, and eventually, solo dresses. They were almost done with their coffee at that point, nestled in a corner of the shop by a window that looked out across the street.

"Let me guess," Grantaire said, grinning. "Your dress is a Celtic Star? Elevation? Ooh, perhaps a Gavin Doherty origi-- you're fucking kidding me," she said, breaking off halfway through her sentence and staring at the blush that covered Enjolras' cheeks. "You have a Gavin? An actual Gavin, with actual sleeves and designs and a skirt and everything?"

"No," drawled Enjolras, rolling her eyes. "I've only got the bodice. Of course I have the whole dress. But-- yeah. It was my eighteenth birthday present from my grandmother."

Grantaire gaped. "Okay. You're showing me the dress. You are taking me to your room and showing me the Gavin."

"It's just a dress."

"Hon. You've got a Gavin Doherty original and I bought my dress used for $300 and had to do most of the repairs myself. You're showing me your Gavin."

Enjolras blushed. "Okay," she said.

~~~

"Wow. That... that's a Gavin. A real Gavin."

"Yeah," Enjolras muttered, rocking back on her heels. "I've only worn it a few times-- to Oireachtas and then Nationals but--"

"You went to Oireachtas and Nationals."

"Yeah."

"I mean, Oireachtas I get, but... damn. You've certainly been downplaying your talent, if you got to Nationals."

"You're one to talk!" Enjolras said.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you at Nationals. I mean, I didn't know, but then you showed me your solo dress on your phone, and I remember seeing it and thinking that it was amazing, and I recognize you now that I have that to go off of and-- you're really good. I saw you dancing."

Grantaire ducked her head. "I don't like to talk about it."

"Why?"

"Nobody cares, really. I mean, outside of feis friends I've never had anyone who cares before."

"I care. Getting to Nationals is a big deal."

"None of my friends here really care. I mean, they care, but they don't get it."

Enjolras sat down on her bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I get that," she said, softly. "My two best friends in the world know nothing about Irish dance. I can jabber on to them about clicks and axle turns, but they just kind of smile and nod through the whole thing."

Grantaire took a seat next to her, and leaned against the headboard. "I've never had anyone say that they care about my dancing before."

"You're really good."

"You've only seen me dance at Nationals."

"Yeah. _At Nationals_ ," Enjolras pointed out, laughing. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey Enjolras?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for saying that you care. I mean, I've only known you for like, two days, but... I dunno. Nobody's ever really said that before. I didn't ever really have friends in dance class because I started so late, and then when I got here, I was the only Irish dancer in any of my classes and--"

Enjolras smiled. "Hey, I get it. No need to try and explain."

Grantaire smiled back at her. "So, most horrifying injury story from one of your classes?"

"Oh my God, there was this one time..."

~~~

They became fast friends. Grantaire somehow wormed her way into Enjolras' activist group, shouting snarky comments from the back of the room and exchanging Irish dance related puns before meetings. It turned out that she was already friends with a few of the other girls in the group-- Joly and Bossuet. The rest of them immediately made a liking to the other girl, and before two weeks was up they'd officially decided that she was an Amie.

They danced together, sharing a practice room and critiquing technique. Enjolras was busting out old dances she hadn't danced in months, to prepare for the feis, and Grantaire was a bit gleeful at the sight of the usually so composed girl stopping halfway through a dance and staring vacantly at a wall as she desperately tried to recall her steps.

"So," Grantaire said, from her position on the floor. She was twisted up in a butterfly stretch and staring up at Enjolras, her chin propped up on her hands. "The feis is in two weeks. Do you still want to get a ride from me?"

Enjolras laughed. "Is that even a question, R? Of course I want a ride from you. It'll be fun."

Grantaire nodded. "I'm really excited to go, actually. There haven't been enough feiseanna around here for my liking."

"Hey Grantaire?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you dropped into my practice room a month and a half ago. I mean, I know we don't always see eye-to-eye on things, but... you're one of my best friends now, I think. And that seems weird, because I've only known you for a month and a half, but--"

"Hey, I get it," Grantaire said, nodding. "I... your friendship has been really good for me, Enjolras."

Enjolras ducked her head. "Thanks," she said, softly.

~~~

It was past midnight, when Enjolras realized.

"Oh."

~~~

"Do you have your dress and your wallet and your sweats and your water bottle?"

"Yes, Grantaire," Enjolras said, rolling her eyes.

"Sock glue?"

"I've got it, and even if I didn't, someone there does. Or we could buy some! It's fine. And yes, I've got bleached socks as well. I've been doing this for a lot longer than you have, remember?"

"I'm just nervous," Grantaire admitted. "It's been a long time since I competed, and I'm usually pretty forgetful, and--"

"It'll be fine, R. It really will."

"Are you--"

"I'm positive."

"Okay. Okay."

"Can you start the car? We're going to be late if you don't get going," Enjolras said, pulling a wig out of her bag, along with a box of hairpins.

"Are you putting that on now?" Grantaire asked, risking a glance at her friend.

"I don't mind having it on, and I do not want to deal with any more crowded hotel bathrooms than I already will."

Grantaire laughed. "Okay, okay. I get that."

It took them half an hour to arrive at the hotel, and by then, Grantaire's nerves were buzzing. Enjolras patted her comfortingly on the arm. "Cheer up, buttercup," she said. "We don't have to dance for another hour and a half at least, plus it'll actually probably be longer due to them running behind."

"They're running behind? How do you--"

"It's a feis, R. They're always running behind."

"Oh. Right. Of course."

"Are you always this nervous about competitions?" Enjolras asked, as she pulled her dress bag out of the back seat and slung her dance bag over her shoulder.

"Yes," R said, nodding. "Always."

"Dork. It'll be fine," Enjolras assured her. "Now come on!"

~~~

Their competitions flew by. Enjolras felt great, Grantaire felt great, and the atmosphere at the feis wasn't too nervous.

It wasn't until trophy dances that Enjolras felt nervous. She and Grantaire had competed in the same competition, and she really didn't want to place above her friend.

"When are they announcing?" Grantaire asked, playing idly with one of the curls that were hanging around the side of her face.

"Soon," Enjolras assured her. "You've been doing this for long enough, R, you should know how it works."

"I do. I'm just a very nervous person about these kinds of things," Grantaire said, shrugging. "I hate getting results. God, I danced terribly, I know I did, I--"

"You were one of the best dancers I saw out there today, and I'm not just saying that because you're my friend," Enjolras said. She reached down and grasped Grantaire's hand in her own. Grantaire squeezed it tightly for a moment, and then loosened her grip, but didn't let go.

"And now the announcements will begin for the Katherine Lane memorial trophy dance," called out a woman's voice from the stage.

Grantaire squeezed Enjolras' hand again.

"In third place, is number 113," said the announcer.

Grantaire's grip got tighter.

"In second place, is number 456."

Enjolras thought she might be losing circulation in her hand.

"And tied for first place, is numbers 180 and 320," called the announcer.

Grantaire dropped Enjolras hand in shock.

Enjolras took it back, turned the other girl toward her, and kissed her. "Sorry," she squeaked, pulling back. "I--"

Grantaire shook her head, and pulled her in for another kiss. "I think we have to go up and get trophies now," she said, pulling back a second later.

Enjolras nodded, dumbly, and, still holding Grantaire's hand, moved toward the stage.

After photos and accepting trophies, the two girls moved into a quiet side hallway.

"You kissed me," Grantaire said. "I just.. I need to know. Was it just jubilation at the fact that we both got first, or...?"

"It's more of the fact that I've been wanting to kiss you for weeks and couldn't stop myself when I realized we both won," Enjolras said, glancing at her shoes. "And you kissed me back, does that mean--"

"It means that I've been wanting to kiss you for a long time, and when you kissed me first, I figured I was finally able to."

Enjolras took Grantaire's hand. "Does this mean I can do this as more than friends now?"

"Do you want to be able to do it as more than friends?"

"Yes," Enjolras said, vehemently. "I really, really do."

When they went and got photos later, their favorite was of both of them in their solo dresses, holding their matching first-place trophies, and pressing a chaste kiss against the other's lips.

**Author's Note:**

> [Enjolras' dress](http://www.usedsolodresses.com/listing-images/gavin-doherty_3950.jpg)
> 
> [Grantaire's dress](http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/7a/eb/82/7aeb829783eae9ff8ab54301cb4bf6e9.jpg)
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://www.the-strangest-sea.tumblr.com)
> 
> Feis: An Irish dance competition  
> Feiseanna: The plural of "feis"  
> Oireachtas: Irish dance regionals, essentially  
> Ghillies: A soft leather slipper used for dancing  
> Hard shoes: A hard leather shoe with fiberglass on the toe and heel  
> Solo dress: Expensive dresses for dancing in competitions  
> Gavin Doherty, Elevation, Celtic Star: Three famous Irish dance solo dressmakers and designers


End file.
